And Don't Ever Look Back
by IrethR
Summary: AU Runaway groom Blaine Anderson figures New York is the last place his parents and fiancé will come look for him. Private Investigator Kurt Hummel wasn't born yesterday, though.
1. Meet the Andersons

**Title: And Don't Ever Look Back**

**Rating: M**

**Summary: AU Runaway groom Blaine Anderson figures New York is the last place his parents and fiancé will come look for him. Private Investigator Kurt Hummel wasn't born yesterday, though.**

**Categories: Action/Adventure, Drama, Romance, Humour, maybe a little Angst.**

**AN: **

**Hi all, my name's Robin and I'll be your author for this story! Time for something new. For those of you reading my other stories: No worries, I'm finishing those as well. This is something I've been toying around with for a while, and I really couldn't wait any longer to start writing it. I'll try to update once a week, sometimes twice if I have the time.**

**Enjoy reading, and please don't hesitate to let me know what you think^^**

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><p>Handsome men with eight figure bank accounts didn't get parties thrown for them out of pity. However, there weren't many people able to imagine having such a life either. This was probably the reason why Blaine Anderson never really cared about what others thought of him. He felt miserable, and everybody else would do well to not talk about that and leave him alone. Yeah, as if that was going to happen.<p>

Blaine was currently standing on the balcony overseeing the massive (too massive, in his opinion) gardens at his family's mansion in Westerville, preparing himself for the lecture on appropriate behaviour expected from an Anderson from his father that was sure to come any minute now. He had received lectures like that every evening for the past ten years, so he didn't expect his father to break tradition now.

Ah, right on time. Michael Anderson came walking towards him, closing the ornate glass sliding doors behind him. He was dressed in his usual getup: a dark grey suit with a slightly lighter grey tie, meant to make him look as distinguished as his last name would suggest. Blaine thought his father looked like a proper tool, owning only grey suits. All thirty-five of them. His father didn't waste any time starting to lecture him on good behaviour. Blaine's thoughts immediately started to wonder.

He thought about his own clothes, and how he felt stifled wearing only pressed trousers combined with sweater vests and bowties. He had liked them at first, when he was fifteen and still trying to please his father, and had even garnered a large collection of novelty bowties, but now he was yearning to wear a pair of jeans combined with a simple t-shirt.

Andersons didn't wear jeans and shirts though. Andersons were supposed to project a proper image of a put together, rich family, who were on top of the world at all times. Doing so meant classy clothing, classy cars, classy houses and horribly gelled back hairstyles. Not only did Blaine yearn for a pair of jeans, he was also craving his old curly hairdo.

From his hairstyle, his thoughts drifted to the charity event his father was currently lecturing him on. A whole charity event designed to save the trees in a rain forest somewhere. Blaine would believe the intentions of the host if the invitations hadn't been pressed on thick paper made in the Amazons. These invents were always horribly boring. And besides, hadn't they saved enough tree, whales, canaries or butterflies by now? They went to about two of these events per month, after all.

"Are you even listening to what I'm saying?", his father's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Of course I'm listening, father," Blaine answered, though he really hadn't been. He had heard this speech many times before though, so he knew what his father wanted to hear. "The limo will be here at seven and you would very much appreciate it if I would be on time for once in my life, so the rest of the family won't have to wait for me for once. Besides, who wouldn't want to miss even a second of such a glorious event?"

His father nearly glared at him (_nearly_, Andersons don't show emotion if they can help it).

"There's no need to be cheeky, Blaine. Is it really too much to ask for you to be punctual for once? To hope that you might even try to make something of the evening?"

Blaine sighed and shook his head. "I apologise, father. I'll be on time."

Michael sighed in return, shaking his head and preparing to walk back inside.

"No, you won't be. You'll make us wait at least fifteen minutes. Aunt Caresse will amuse himself with a tumbler of scotch, your mother will be annoyed and run upstairs to change dresses one last time, Cooper will run around after his children to keep them in the same place and Sebastian will call from the club to make sure you haven't been kidnapped or something at least three times. You know, you really should treat your fiancé a little less callous with things like that, he worries."

Blaine saved his eye roll till his father left the balcony, leaving the glass doors open. Right, Sebastian. His loving fiancé. They had met at Dalton, the private Academy all Anderson boys had gone to since the school had been founded, over two hundred years ago. Sebastian's parents ran in the same social circles as Blaine's parents (the stuck up circles where if you didn't have at least two summer homes in Europe, you'd be looked down upon) and Michael and Jane Anderson had not so subtly pushed Blaine in his direction. This was of course after Michael had finally gotten over the fact that his son was gay and had realised that other rich families had gay sons, as well.

To be honest, Blaine hadn't really thought much of Sebastian Smythe at first. To be even more honest, he still really didn't. He had gone along with what was expected of him, and had started to tell himself that it was perfectly normal to have to grow into a relationship. He didn't dislike Sebastian, per se, he had just expected more out of a relationship with him. Something more than handholding at charity events and meaningless (at least to him) sex afterwards.

"What are you thinking about, Blainey?" the voice of his brother suddenly came from behind him, startling him out of his thoughts.

"The usual," he answered, before grinning. "Life, the universe… everything really."

"Nerd," Cooper Anderson scoffed. "No really, you seem doubtful. Please tell me it's not about which colour bowtie to wear tonight, cause I'll turn right back around and tell mother you still haven't started to change into your eveningwear."

"You wouldn't," Blaine mock gasped. He then sighed, leaning over to rest his arms on the stone railing. "Just thinking about charities and stuff. And Sebastian."

"Ah, Sebastian," Cooper said, coming over to lean beside him. "Mother won't shut up about him. She keeps talking about how very much in love with you he is and how he is such a fine, upstanding young man from a good family and how he will make such a good husband."

Blaine snorted. "Good. If she likes him so much, she can marry him."

Cooper's easy smile faded a little. "I don't think father would approve. Maybe aunt Caresse, though. Lord knows she needs to improve her reputation."

Blaine didn't answer him, imagening his aunt Carrese hanging over Sebastian, a tumbler of expensive liquor in her right hand, while clinging on to his bicep with her left. The thought was amusing. His brother interrupted his thoughts:

"You don't have to marry him, you know. No one is forcing you."

"I know," the younger Anderson brother replied. "Just put it down to wedding jitters or something. I'm sure our marriage will be a fruitful one."

Cooper sighed. "If you're sure?"

"I'm sure, Coop," Blaine said, "I guess I had just always figured it to be more romantic, I suppose. Besides, the wedding's in two weeks. Mother will have a fit if I back out now."

Cooper laughed heartily. "The look on her face would be priceless though."

"It would be, " Blaine agreed. "Now go back inside, those brats of yours have been calling your name for at least five minutes now."

His brother nodded, taking a last, long look at Blaine. "Whatever you do, never have twins. I hate Helena's genes right now."

Blaine chuckled, following after Cooper as he left the balcony. "I don't think that will be a problem for Sebastian and I."

"Right, gay. Lucky bastards," Cooper said, before disappearing to find his twin daughters. Blaine decided to go up to his room to change into his formal evening wear.

It wouldn't do to be late again.

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><p><strong>And so our story begins ^^ Let me know what you think?<strong>

**Till next time!**

**-Robin.**


	2. Cracks in Masks

**Title: And Don't Ever Look Back**

**Rating: M**

**Summary: AU Runaway groom Blaine Anderson figures New York is the last place his parents and fiancé will come look for him. Private Investigator Kurt Hummel wasn't born yesterday, though.**

**Categories: Action/Adventure, Drama, Romance, Humour, maybe a little Angst.**

**Disclaimer: (forgot last time) All that's mine is the plot. And even that I'm sure must have been done before in some cheesy detective film once upon a time.**

**AN: Hi all, thanks for the wonderful response to the first chapter! I loved getting all the emails describing story alerts, favourites and review alerts. Thanks a lot for the reviews, too, they really made my day!**

**Enjoy reading, and please don't hesitate to let me know what you think^^**

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><p>Kurt Hummel absolutely hated Noah Puckerman. If he had any doubts about this before, they were all gone by now. This could have something to do with the fact that he had already had twenty minutes to think up specific ways to torture the burly man, ranging from hiding his porn magazines to telling his girlfriends (as in plural, yes) of the existence of the other girlfriends Puck was currently fooling around with.<p>

And really, it would be fully within his right to do so. When he and Puck had first started working together as private investigators, they had divided their tasks in a way they had both liked: Kurt would handle the cases where there would be actual thinking involved. Cases where someone went missing, or someone got robbed or something like that. Puck would handle the cases where all that was needed was brawn, meaning the bodyguard cases.

Tonight, however, Puck had called Kurt away from the office where he was busy investigating a _thrilling_ case (not really, he was just pretending to Puck, he couldn't care less about another lost cat) to fill in for him. It was supposed to be a standard guarding job; keep an eye on the people you're with, but mostly on the jewellery around the women's necks and wrists. This is why he hated guarding gigs; all those rich people putting more value in their shiny jewellery than in their own lives.

Sure, maybe the rich needed protection. Maybe they got robbed every now and then. Probably never, though. The rich didn't rent bodyguards for their protection. They hired them for the prestige in being able to say "Are you sure you don't mind my bodyguard hiding behind that large potted plant all evening while we dance? I'm sure he wouldn't mind finding a different place to hide." And, if Puck was to be believed, their main job was really making sure they got home safely after one too many drinks.

No way he was able to get out of it now, though. He was already leaning against the limo destined to take the small family to some sort of charity event. And they were running late. Apparently, the youngest son of the family had the knack to run late whenever the family was going somewhere. Everyone else was there already: A woman was holding a tumbler of amber liquid, sipping from it every now again and throwing furtive glances at him, a younger man was running after his twin daughters who were dressed up adorably in little blue dresses while his wife edged her daughters on and the head of the family was trying to convince his wife that it really wasn't necessary to change dresses again.

Quite frankly, this was not the glamorous life Kurt had envisioned for himself back in high school. When he was seventeen, all he had dreamed of was a life on Broadway in New York, not solving petty crime cases in Nowhere, Ohio. He had had big dreams of dancing and singing on brightly lit stages, belting out his favourite musical numbers and receiving a thunderous applause and a standing ovation in return. Instead, what he got was a slightly tipsy woman well past her forties trying to flirt with him and a kick in the shins from one of the 'darling' twin girls running past him.

"Emily, apologise to the man!", their father scolded her, looking resigned, as if this had happened many times before already.

"Sorry mister," the girl shouted over her shoulder before running of again. Her father, obviously needing a break from his children, came over to stand beside Kurt.

"I'm so sorry about her," he said, leaning against the limo like Kurt, "I swear her mother is rewarding her with treats whenever she does something to make my life harder."

Kurt did his best not to snort. "I'm sure that's not true," he replied, polite as could be, "Do you know if your brother will be joining us shortly? It's just that we're on a schedule, and we're about twenty minutes behind already."

"I'm sure he'll be out soon. He's probably stuck on which bowtie to wear or something. He's got about ten dozen of them."

Kurt didn't roll his eyes – because that's exactly how _he_ was with his scarves-, but was saved from further conversation by the grand front doors slamming shut. He turned to see the culprit (half hoping and half dreading it to be the youngest Anderson boy so they could finally go to the charity event) and felt himself stop breathing for half a second. The man that just walked out of the house looked like he belonged on a runway, and if that was because of the extra twenty minutes he took getting ready Kurt was willing to give him the entire evening if he so desired.

He couldn't give him the entire evening, though. They were already behind schedule as it was. He couldn't stare at his client either, come to think of it, so he stood up straighter and stepped away from the limo.

"Mr Anderson, so glad you could join us," he couldn't help but give a jab, "May we continue on to the charity event now?"

The man (Blaine, he vaguely remembered from Puck's file on the family) looked at him with icy eyes, as if no one had ever told him of for being late before. "We may," he snapped, before striding over to sit in the limo. The little girls flew in after him, and the rest of the family followed.

Kurt sighed, closing the door behind them and walking over to sit next to the driver in the front passenger seat. This is why he disliked the rich.

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><p>Blaine was standing on the balcony, letting his eyes wander over the massive gardens that lay beneath them before looking up at the sky above. He and Sebastian had been there for about half an hour now and all his fiancé had talked about so far where his stocks and the cute ass on one of the waiters. Blaine started to wonder yet again why he was marrying him. He had been wondering about that a lot in the past few hours actually, especially since the conversation he had with his brother.<p>

When Sebastian finally stopped talking for a bit to take a sip of his drink, Blaine took the opportunity to try and change the subject.

"Don't you think it's beautiful out here, Sebastian? Look at all the roses and lilies in the garden. They're so fragile and strong at the same time. Their colours are magnificent and I swear I can smell them from here. I think their gardener must be doing a fine job with them."

Sebastian didn't answer him, looking at him from the side instead and taking another sip of his drink.

"You're such a dreamer, Blaine," he said at last. "Maybe you should try to focus more on the important things in life than on all these romantic ideas you have in your head."

"What, like your stocks?" Blaine snapped at him, starting to tire of never being able to share his thoughts with his fiancé. "Or the amazing ass on the waiter you have been staring at all night?"

"My stocks on the market are what's going to provide for us when we're married, Blaine," Sebastian snapped back at him, the superior smirk he always seemed to have on playing around his lips. "I'd say that's pretty damn important."

"What about the waiter?" Blaine glared.

"I'm allowed to look, aren't I?" Sebastian answered.

"I'd really rather you didn't look at other people when we're about to get married in two weeks, actually," Blaine said in return, not at all pleased with his fiancé.

Sebastian snorted unattractively. "I can try, but I'm not making any promises, babe. Besides, who's to say you haven't been doing the exact same thing?"

Blaine looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"For your information, I haven't looked at another man since we started dating."

"But that was three years ago!" Sebastian gasped, aghast.

"Exactly," Blaine nearly sneered, walking back inside to re-join the party. "Think about that for a second."

_Maybe, _Blaine thought while accepting another glass of champagne from a waiter, _maybe I do need to get out of here while I still can._

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><p><strong>And so we meet Kurt ^^ Let me know what you think?<strong>

**Till next time!**

**-Robin.**


	3. In Vino Veritas

**Title: And Don't Ever Look Back**

**Rating: M**

**Summary: AU Runaway groom Blaine Anderson figures New York is the last place his parents and fiancé will come look for him. Private Investigator Kurt Hummel wasn't born yesterday, though.**

**Categories: Action/Adventure, Drama, Romance, Humour, maybe a little Angst.**

**Disclaimer: All that's mine is the plot. And even that I'm sure must have been done before in some cheesy detective film once upon a time.**

**AN: Wow, this is a new record for me, I think. Don't expect another update this fast, this doesn't happen that often :P I want to thank you all for reading, and I hope you'll continue to do so. In this chapter, things really start getting into play.**

**Enjoy reading, and please don't hesitate to let me know what you think^^**

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><p>In vino veritas. "In wine truth will be found." For the first time in his life, Blaine had consumed enough wine and champagne to be able to attest to that. He had come to a few conclusions over the course of the evening. Movies didn't reflect reality, and books told just as many lies. There was no such thing as romance. And, Blaine decided when seeing Sebastian crowd up on the cute waiter just a little bit too close to be friendly, there was no such thing as happily ever after either.<p>

These were Blaine's deep, wine charged thoughts as he stood in front of the window in his room at home, peering into the darkness outside. He was always standing in front of windows or on balconies, come to think of it. He was always looking outside. Even when he was outside, he was looking outside. Always looking, watching, but never acting. Seeing, but never being part of the world outside of his house.

Sure, Blaine had gone to school like everyone else. He had even convinced his parents to let him try public school (the amount of wine bottles his parents had gone through that week was still imprinted in his mind, but he had gotten what he wanted in the end). When public school had failed, he had gone to a private, all- boys academy. He had found it to be too stifling though, and the only thing he was able to do to break free from the mould a bit was sing. Which he had done, and quite well at that if he did say so himself. He had led the school's choir to a few victories back in the day.

Blaine groaned, leaning forward to rest his warm forehead against the cool glass of the window. Hear him thinking about things being 'back in the day'. He was twenty- five. It was way too soon to start sounding like his grandfather. He looked around his room a bit, still keeping his head pressed to the glass. He took in his surroundings and sighed. He'd be the first to admit he was spoiled. He was an Anderson, and that still meant something in certain circles. And his father made sure to never let him forget that.

He was spoiled, suffocated, stifled. _Trapped._ All his life he had been told what to do, like some mindless drone just awaiting orders from its owner. Don't be late, Blaine. Stand up straight, Blaine. Dress smart, Blaine. Go to every single charity event you're invited to. Stand here, smile there. Remember you're an Anderson. Protect your privacy. Never do anything to harm the family name. Don't go into politics, Blaine. Could you try to date a girl, Blaine? Marry the right partner. Marry now, Blaine.

He looked out over the gardens again. Marriage? Why? Because it would send the right message to his parents' circle of friends, of course. Love had nothing to do with it. But Blaine was a romantic, and he had told himself when he started dating Sebastian three years ago that it was because he genuinely liked him, not because his father needed him to be seen as a serious young man, willing to settle down and start a family instead of just being 'the Anderson's strange gay son, what will ever become of him?". He was really starting to see that was exactly what he had done, though.

He wasn't marrying Sebastian because he wanted to, or because he loved him so much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. He was marrying Sebastian because he wanted to make his parents happy and proud for once. Because, hey, objectively speaking Sebastian was quite a catch. He was handsome (at least, most people thought so, Cooper had once commented on him looking a bit like a meerkat and that's all Blaine has been able to see since), he was rich, he had connections in high places, and he really, _really_ wanted Blaine.

Once you got to know Sebastian, though, he came across just a bit differently. He was boring, for one. Every conversation Blaine had had with him in the past few months had been about his work (_his_ work, Blaine didn't have a job at the moment. More like, hadn't had one since he finished college) or about how he wanted to go back to Paris to live there after they were married. Also, and Blaine couldn't be a hundred per cent sure but he wasn't exactly blind to the signs either, he cheated. His eyes weren't the only things that wandered away from Blaine, Blaine was sure.

So why was he still with him? Why was he going through with the marriage when he didn't really love his fiancé and really didn't want to spend the rest of eternity with him? Blaine turned away from the window and walked towards his large closet. Why was he even still here when he felt stifled, not only at home but in his relationship? What had happened to the seventeen year old singer who had dreamed of making it big in the music industry?

_That boy is still in here_, Blaine thought while shifting through his closet for the large duffel bags he had kept there ever since he moved back home from college. He started picking out clothes and books to pack, not really realising what he was doing yet. It wasn't till he was busy packing toiletries that he realised what he was doing. He was leaving. He was about to walk out the door (_no, can't go out the door, aunt Caresse will still be awake. Best make it the window)_ and walk away from the future he had been groomed to have. He was about to be free.

Blaine stopped in his tracks. He was going to be _free_. He was going to make something of his life. He was going to leave Westerville behind and head for greater, bigger things. He wasn't going to marry Sebastian. He spared a second to think about how his mother would react to the news, but decided to put his own happiness first for once. A giddy smile spread across his face. He was going to live his life for himself, and not for his father, his mother, or Sebastian. Blaine Anderson would just be Blaine. But where to go?

Placing the two fully packed duffel bags on his bed, Blaine glanced around the room a final time. His eyes fell on a picture frame on his bedside table. In the picture were his friends from college and himself, celebrating on their graduation day. Behind them was the front of their school; Columbia. Blaine grinned. He knew exactly where he was going to go.

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><p>"Yes, Mrs Peterson. I promise you we'll return Mr Snugglepuss to you. He'll be home before you know it," Kurt said into the phone he held at his ear, determinedly ignoring the snort Puck let out at the name of the missing cat. He exchanged a few more reassuring words with her before hanging up.<p>

"Mr Snugglepuss?" Puck asked disbelievingly.

"Sadly," Kurt answered. "I swear people just name their cats stupid names like this to make their friends look ridiculous when playing with them."

Puck snorted again, nodding his head. "Wait, didn't you solve a missing cat case for Mrs Peterson already?"

"Three, actually," Kurt answered, scribbling a note to put in the folder he was working on. "This makes four. To be fair, though, I've seen the inside of her house. I'd run away too."

His partner laughed, before throwing his feet up on his desk. Kurt looked on disapprovingly.

"So, how was your night with the Andersons last night?" Puck inquired, smirking mischievously.

Kurt frowned at him. "That was the last time I took on one of your jobs. I've got bruises on my shins."

"Ah, little Emily," Puck nodded. "And how was the rest of the family?"

Kurt shrugged. "I liked the oldest Anderson son. He actually deigned to talk to me without being prompted."

"Coop's a good guy," Puck agreed. "So, nothing unusual?"

"Nope," Kurt answered. "You can just file it under 'completed', subdivision 'guarding'."

"You and your ordering system," Puck grumbled, before standing up to do just that. He wasn't even two feet away from his desk when his phone rang. He walked back to pick up the receiver.

"Lima Private Eyes. You lose 'em, we find 'em," he said cheekily, causing Kurt to roll his eyes. "Uhu. Yeah, sure, can do. Kurt, dude, it's for you."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, but took the phone from Puck anyway. "Lima PI, Kurt Hummel speaking. How may I help you?"

He gestured to himself and the phone, as if telling Puck that that what the correct way to answer a phone call before listening to whatever the person on the other side of the line had to say. Puck just waved his hand at him, already walking towards the filing cabinet again.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, ma'am. We will find him for you." Kurt spoke into the receiver before hanging up.

"Another lost cat?" Puck flippantly asked. When Kurt didn't answer he turned around to find his lithe partner staring at the phone he had just set down. "Kurt?"

"Hmm?" Kurt asked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Oh, no. No lost cat. That was Mirabelle Anderson. Blaine Anderson is missing."

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><p><strong>So, Blaine's gone. Time for PI Kurt to get his cute little butt into gear.<strong>

**Let me know what you thought about it?**

**Till next time,**

**-Robin.**


	4. New York, New York

**Title: And Don't Ever Look Back**

**Rating: M**

**Summary: AU Runaway groom Blaine Anderson figures New York is the last place his parents and fiancé will come look for him. Private Investigator Kurt Hummel wasn't born yesterday, though.**

**Categories: Action/Adventure, Drama, Romance, Humour, maybe a little Angst.**

**Disclaimer: All that's mine is the plot. And even that I'm sure must have been done before in some cheesy detective film once upon a time.**

**AN: I'm glad you guys are enjoying this. So am I! Thanks for all the reviews and alerts and favourites. You guys are awesome.**

**I hope you enjoy the chapter^^**

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><p>If Blaine had taken the time to plan, he probably wouldn't have done it. Eventually, he would have thought of a number of reasons why he shouldn't go .Somewhere along the line he would have thought about possible flaws in his lack of plans. But he didn't. Instead he left Ohio on the first bus out of Columbus. He searched for a word to describe how he felt and finally found it: Freedom. He wanted to live, and not just exist.<p>

Breathing in the fresh New York air (only fresh if he ignored the gas fumes and his own body stench after having been on a bus for nearly two days), he found he had absolutely no regrets. Not yet, anyway. He only felt a bit of guilt about not telling Cooper where he was going. He was sure that by now his brother was laughing his arse of at his mother's panicking, which would probably only be outdone by Sebastian's agitation, so he didn't worry about it too much.

He supposed he had been a bit callous in his goodbye- note, though. _Dear mum, dad, Cooper (and Sebastian),_ the note had read, _I can't do this. I'm going away for a bit. Sebastian, I'm sorry, but I can't marry you. It's not you, it's me. Okay, maybe it's a little you. Or a lot. Anyway, sorry. I don't know when I'll be back. Love, Blaine._

In hindsight, maybe cello- taping his engagement- ring to the paper had been a bit much.

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><p>"You are never going to believe this," Kurt cheerily said as he walked into his office.<p>

Puck looked up from his Rubick's Cube. Kurt didn't know why he still tried, he had been trying to solve it for the last two years. "You've got a date? Cause I'm not going to believe that."

"No," Kurt frowned, "And: ouch. No, apparently the Anderson kid just up and left so he wouldn't have to marry his fiancé."

"Sebastian?" Puck asked, before shrugging. "Don't blame him. Smythe's a slime."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him, knowing he should be used to Puck's callous words by now, but not having expected him to just say that about a client.

"What?", Puck shrugged, "Dude tried to hit on me in front of Anderson. That's low, and that's coming from me."

"True," Kurt conceded. "He did come across as a douche when I met him, too."

Puck grinned, happy to have been proven right, before tossing the Rubick's cube over his shoulder in frustration at not being able to solve it still. "So what's got you so chipper then?"

"The Anderson's asked me to track him down and bring him back," Kurt grinned.

"Why you? I've been working with that family since we started this business. You only met them a day ago!" Puck protested.

Kurt shrugged, a smirk on his lips. "I don't know. Maybe because I'm in charge of the _actual_ detective cases while you act as a bodyguard?"

"That's only because you forbade me from doing those cases since the MacMillan case," Puck grumbled, very nearly pouting.

Kurt raised his eyebrow again. "You were on the case for two months without finding Mr MacMillan. I found him in two _days_."

"How was I supposed to know he had a cabin in the woods?"

"And that," Kurt said while going over to sit at his desk, "Is why _I_ am in charge of this case."

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><p>"I still can't believe you're here, dude," a dark- skinned man said from his place in the passenger seat of the car they were driving in. His eyes were locked on the rear view mirror, wherein he could see his friend seated in one of the back seats.<p>

"Screw that," his Asian friend said from behind the wheel of the car, "I can't believe he finally left Sebastian."

The other man snorted. "I can't believe he did it by running away like a twelve- year- old."

From the back seat, Blaine rolled his eyes. "Yes, har har. I left him in a very immature way."

"Well, you did, Blaine," the Asian man said with a grin.

"Yeah, I know," Blaine sighed. "Thanks for letting me stay with you by the way, Wes."

"No problem," Wes responded, manoeuvring the car through the thick New York traffic.

"It's really sweet of you," Blaine continued, "I'm just not sure why David's here, too. I thought the glue keeping the two of you joined at the hips had dissolved some since graduation."

"Preposterous!", Wes exclaimed, at the same time David gasped out a "No such thing!".

Blaine fought the urge to roll his eyes again. He should have known his two friends wouldn't have changed a bit since their college days. Even though both of them had a steady, mature job now (Wes was active in law, while David was a doctor) they still liked to act like they were five. And that's when they were sober. Blaine planned on avoiding the bar they had taken him to on his twenty- first birthday whilst he stayed with them. He was pretty sure their pictures were still on the wall behind the bar.

"So," David said after a few moments of comfortable silence, "You're mother must be freaking the fuck out right about now."

Wes snorted while Blaine groaned. "Oh, dear God, please don't remind me," the curly- haired boy said.

"Did you at least leave a note?" Wes asked.

"I did," Blaine answered proudly.

"Was it any good?" David asked, obviously fighting to keep in his laughter at the look on Blaine's face.

"Not very, no," Blaine replied. "But at least I left one, right?"

"Yeah sure," Wes answered, steering them into a familiar looking block of streets. "We'll pretend it's the thought that counts."

Blaine dropped his head in his hands. Wes and David high- fived over the centre- console.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you're actually going on a trip for this case," Puck complained from his desk. He had retrieved the Rubick's cube from somewhere and was busy trying to solve it again.<p>

"Yup," Kurt grinned, before dropping a pile of files on Puck's desk. Puck hurried to remove his feet from where they had been laying on the desk. "You do, however, realise you're going to have to take over my cases while I'm away, right?"

"That's so not fair," Puck groaned. "How do you know he's not still in Ohio, anyway?"

"Quite simple," Kurt answered while pulling on his jacket. "All the pictures in his room are from his college days. Every single one of them features his roommates, the school building and the city. He didn't even have a picture of his fiancé. Kind of sad, if you ask me."

"Really?", Puck asked sceptically, "A few pictures told you Anderson left the state to go back to his college city?"

"Well, there was that," Kurt started, "And the fact that he asked the maid to call him a taxi to take him to the airport. There were only three flights that night, a flight to New York City being one of them. He went back to New York."

"So now you get to go back to New York to look for him," Puck grumbled. "Must be fun to go back to _your_ college city."

"Right you are," Kurt smiled cheekily in return. "And all expenses are paid for by the Andersons."

"Where you'll visit old friends, go shopping and visit Broadway shows from, I'm sure," Puck stated.

"If Anderson's somewhere, I'll be there. If he decided to go see a musical, I'll be two rows behind him," Kurt grinned, not convincing Puck in the slightest. He picked up his travel bag and opened the door before turning back to his partner once more.

"Oh, and please do try to make headway on those files. Mrs Peterson misses Mr Snugglepuss a great deal."

The last thing Kurt heard out of Puck was the dull thud of the Rubick's cube as it collided with the door he had just closed behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>Liked it, loved it, hated it with a fiery passion? Please do let me know.<strong>

**Till next time!**

**-Robin.**


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